Chapter 3 - Page 2

ask admission
to the happy circle or to seem to desire it.

"I shall go to London tomorrow, Lucia," Gerald said one evening, as he
came back from what he called "a survey," looking very much annoyed.

"To London?" exclaimed his cousin, surprised.

"Yes, I must bestir myself and get Ned his commission, or it will be all
over with him."

"How do you mean?"

"He is falling in love as fast as it is possible for a boy to do it.
That girl has bewitched him, and he will make a fool of himself very
soon, unless I put a stop to it."

"I was afraid she would attempt a flirtation. These persons always do,
they are such a mischief-making race."

"Ah, but there you are wrong, as far as little Muir is concerned. She
does not flirt, and Ned has too much sense and spirit to be caught by a
silly coquette. She treats him like an elder sister, and mingles the
most attractive friendliness with a quiet dignity that captivates the
boy. I've been watching them, and there he is, devouring her with his
eyes, while she reads a fascinating novel in the most fascinating
style. Bella and Mamma are absorbed in the tale, and see nothing; but
Ned makes himself the hero, Miss Muir the heroine, and lives the love
scene with all the ardor of a man whose heart has just waked up. Poor
lad! Poor lad!"

Lucia looked at her cousin, amazed by the energy with which he spoke,
the anxiety in his usually listless face. The change became him, for it
showed what he might be, making one regret still more what he was.
Before she could speak, he was gone again, to return presently,
laughing, yet looking a little angry.

"What now?" she asked.

"'Listeners never hear any good of themselves' is the truest of
proverbs. I stopped a moment to look at Ned, and heard the following
flattering remarks. Mamma is gone, and Ned was asking little Muir to
sing that delicious barcarole she gave us the other evening.

"'Not now, not here,' she said.

"'Why not? You sang it in the drawing room readily enough,' said Ned,
imploringly.

"'That is a very different thing,' and she looked at him with a little
shake of the head, for he was folding his hands and doing the
passionate pathetic.

"'Come and sing it there then,' said innocent Bella. 'Gerald likes your
voice so much, and complains that you will never sing to him.'

"'He never asks me,' said Muir, with an odd smile.

"'He is too lazy, but he wants to hear you.'

"'When he asks me, I will sing--if I feel like it.' And she shrugged her
shoulders with a provoking gesture of indifference.